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Hi. It’s Paul Ryan. His middle son. I can’t tell you enough how great my dad is. Really. If I ever could be like anyone it would be like him. A man of great character. A man that didn’t care how many initials you had after your name. How fancy your car is. Someone who would pick up total strangers to give them work. Because he’s know what it was like being broke and with mouths to feed. And yet I can’t ever think of one time where I was ever in need.

I feel like he’s been so much to so many people. I can’t really put it into words. He’s taught so much to us kids without saying a word. I guess that’s what makes even commenting about him hard. You just had to be around him to really know how wonderful he is.

I am the last son, commonly known as Ronnie-Ryan-Randall, but legally named Randall, Ronnie and Ryan (AKA Paul) are my brothers… Let such be a warning to you as the danger of following a keep-the-first-letter-the-same naming convention with your children…

By virtue of you reading this, I’d argue you cared for my Father and I truly appreciate such care and friendship. As my father is looking down on me and knows my heart, this is for you..a bottom of the heap perspective on growing up in the Ron Trani Household.

As his son there’s much more from him I’ve gained than a jawline to be proud of, a tendency to frequently smile at nothing in particular, and a strange way of scratching my nose. The benefits of being my father’s son were innumerable, not because it was always fun having homeless people for roommates and watching our parents give away their things to those in need… In fact, I’d argue that many of the important lessons we learn in life aren’t pleasurable – they’re painful. I learned to work – many of you likely did too – working for or with Ron… I learned how to work under pressure. I learned to believe in the impossible. I learned to be strong, proud, fearless (because of he who’s with us), compassionate, forgiving… I learned about sales, business, and the world. I learned a lot about service to the God, family, and country. I learned the importance of family and friends.

There are other things maybe not as pleasant I’ve learned, I guess the one that hits me hardest at this point is as virtuous as your life may be…it’s still short. It likely won’t gain you another day. Such a time will come for all of us. For my Dad, it came too soon. I didn’t listen close enough and I want to hear his stories again, I’d like more time with my Dad..

The memories are all that is left…I’d like to hear your stories about my father – the ones you heard from him or the ones you experienced with him – because I miss him terribly and I wasn’t listening close enough. I love my Dad.

A special thanks to my brother – Paul – for putting this website together. For other friends and family, please post your stories, condolences, comments, and memories for all of us to enjoy.

After reading Randall’s tribute, I feel compelled some of the memories that uncle Ron left me with.
While is was in preschool I broke my femur and was in traction for 6 months. I was arrested to a bed that was across the street from the Trani residence. Every day I was bed ridden, Uncle Ron would come over and ask if I wanted to wrestle. I of course wanted to wrestle but had to wait until I was all healed up. My brother Chris and I looked forward to visiting Uncle Ron as it was always a wrestelmania with him.
Chris and I would beg to spend the night, just to watch scary movies with Uncle Ron. Nothing to scary, as all the movies we watched were in black and white, but Uncle Ron always made them a little scarier than they actually were.
Paying no attention to child labor laws, Uncle Ron put chris and I to work in his warehouse. We would get out of school and be excited to go work our little butts of for him.
He had this laugh that he would do when were tickling him, I can almost hear it now. A couple weeks ago I went to go help Aunt Rita with an order of carpet. As I walked up she said ” Steevee Wonder, your getting so tall, how tall are you now ” Uncle Ron Said this almost every time he saw me. I have only good memories of him and I only wish that his grand children could have spent more time with him.

I have tried writing something on this website a few times and I find it difficult to put my thoughts down well enough to do my Dad and my heart justice. I miss him. I have been sad for him for the last few years, and now that he is gone, I am sad for myself. I miss having him around: showing up just to talk, eating dinner, leaving the water on in the garden, bringing in bunches of onions and lettuce, building something out of nothing, giving the kids tips on life and basketball, showing up to their events, smiling at nothing, sitting in the back yard so proud of his family. I miss life with my Dad. It is different now, kind of lonely and quiet. I had a dream about him recently. He was in my living room. He was young and handsome, of course. He was sitting on the couch telling a story, I think. He was as I remember him when I was growing up. He was happy and fully himself. I think a lot of people remember him like that and I appreciate hearing what everyone has to say about him. Even the smallest sentiment brings joy to my heart. It’s almost like he isn’t really gone. Thank you for sharing your memories.